It Wasn't My Fault
by Exhile87
Summary: "Sir, kindly STOP tormenting my dog." Royai, if you squint very hard.


**A/N: The idea for this had been floating around in my head ever since I saw episode 37 of the first FMA series and, having a dog of my own, I really, really wanted to write this. There are no spoilers and you can probably make out the Royai if you squint hard enough. :)**

**I've proof-read this but let me know if you find any errors.  
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"Lieutenant, is your dog a vegetarian?"

Hawkeye's left eyebrow twitched involuntarily at what she could only describe as the most ridiculous question ever asked by her superior officer. She kept her expression neutral and continued typing the report she was almost done with. "No, sir, of course not," she answered patiently, as if speaking to a young child. "Why do you ask?"

"Because he won't touch anything I give him." She wondered if she was imagining the whiny tone in his voice. "And that includes bones, beef jerky, smoked chicken, salmon, fried—"

"Sir," Hawkeye sighed, feeling the familiar bubbling of annoyance inside her. "I would appreciate if you'd refrain from giving treats to Hayate for no particular reason… and_ please_ don't feed him salmon. It might poison him."

"I told you, he won't take anything I offer," Mustang himself was a little irritated. "Look, he doesn't even want this delicious slice of steak."

Finally lifting her eyes from her work, Hawkeye turned to look at him and found the dark-haired alchemist crouching by his desk and holding out something, which—from her point of view—looked like a block of charcoal. A foot or so before him sat her canine companion, unmoving and panting lightly, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"Maybe, sir, that's because it's burnt," she replied flatly and, against her better judgement, couldn't resist adding, "And begging your pardon, but I think you were cutting it a little loose, calling that delicious, sir…"

One look at Mustang's face told her that he was deeply offended by her words and he glared at her accusingly. "What are you talking about?" he barked, scowling. "It's leftover from last night's dinner."

Hawkeye decided to say no more. She knew from her younger days that the closest thing to a meal he could actually make was boiled eggs with toast. Calling him a terrible cook was the understatement of the century.

She watched him shove the… steak… into Black Hayate's face and sighed again, shifting her attention back to her report. She was inclined to ask him to stop procrastinating his work yet again but felt, strangely enough, utterly tired of telling him the same thing she had been saying almost everyday for the past few years, so she just remained silent.

A dull thud reached her ears, then the sound of a drawer opening. Mustang appeared to be rummaging through his belongings and when she heard a quiet exclamation of glee, she couldn't help looking up again. He was bending down to her pet once more and this time, there was a fat, juicy sausage in his hand.

Hawkeye inhaled deeply, massaging the bridge of her nose. Sure, he couldn't find pens to do his paperwork with but _sausages _he kept in his drawers…

"As you can see, Lieutenant, he's clearly salivating, but why won't he take it? It's not like it's gone bad…" Mustang was thrusting the meat into Hayate's nose and mouth, but the dog, although drooling uncontrollably, merely turned his head away, as if shying from an unpleasant odour.

"Sir, kindly _stop_ tormenting my dog," muttered Hawkeye. The Colonel looked back defensively and said, "What? I'm _want _to give it to him. He just chooses not to accept it."

She suppressed another sigh and snapped her fingers. "Hayate," she called in a firm tone and the dog immediately got up, trotting over to his mistress, still drooling and panting heavily, leaving Mustang crouching. "Sit," Hawkeye commanded, pointing towards a spot by the door. The Colonel stared as the canine silently walked away and lowered himself onto the floor, laying his head on his front paws with a somewhat forlorn look… if that was even possible…

_Hmm, so obedient…_ Mustang thought, rather impressed, and absent-mindedly started to nibble at the sausage he was holding. Hawkeye gave him a disgusted look, shook her head, then pointed out mildly, "Sir, need I remind you that those forms need to be handed in to Internal Affairs by 2 o'clock? That's the reason you stayed in for lunch, remember?"

"Ah…" He scratched his cheek thoughtfully, still chewing, and finally set himself down at his desk, scanning through the sheets that needed approval before him. The usual routine—he'd start work, get distracted and she'd nudge or, more often than not, shove him in the right direction again. He reminded her of a restless boy in class, eager to go out and play in the sun with no regard at all for the fuming teacher in front.

o-o-o-o-o

The next few days consisted of the usual practice of everyone helping Mustang complete his late paperwork. The Colonel himself reluctantly slaved through budget reports, expenses accounts and evaluation forms, much to the content of his aide, but he also tried his best to feed Black Hayate. Every time Hawkeye came back from the ladies' room or mess hall, she would find him with a drumstick or some form of treat, squatting near her dog with the hopes of getting him to take the food while poor Hayate dribbled over the floor. Havoc would snicker and laugh at his attempts, Fuery and Falman would watch in interest. Breda wouldn't even be there.

Hawkeye didn't understand why her superior officer so desperately wanted Hayate to accept the treats, but she informed him time and again that it was inhuman to torture the dog like so. The words went in Mustang's right ear and out of the other. He would finish some of his work just to get her back in a good mood, then proceed to try his luck again. She seriously considered leaving Hayate at home.

One day, just as she was returning to the office from delivering a report to a Major Darsten upstairs…

"_OWW!"_ The yell was loud (and unmanly). Hawkeye quickly opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of Falman and Havoc laughing at their desks, Fuery wide-eyed and the Colonel by his table, clutching his hand. Black Hayate moved to her with a quiet whine. When she saw the strip of meat on the floor, she sighed heavily and rubbed the area between her eyes. Hayate must have—

"Hawkeye, your dog just bit me!" Mustang's tone dripped with venom and accusation, as if the entire thing was _her_ fault. She looked at him, her face a mask, and said dryly, "I'm sure he had a very good reason, sir." When she saw the blood on his palm, she ignored his glare and the chortles from Havoc and Falman, grabbed the nearby first aid kid and walked over to him, her lips pressed in a straight line. Hayate stayed at the door, his tail between his legs.

"I told you, sir, you shouldn't tempt him. Every animal has its limits," she remarked as she started to clean the wound. It wasn't deep, though the teeth marks were clear. Mustang winced—she wasn't exactly being gentle. His look of annoyance gradually changed to one of concern and he suddenly said, "I won't catch anything, will I? Your dog's vaccinated, isn't he? No rabies?"

Despite her exasperation, she wanted to chuckle at his behaviour and the worried expression on his face. Instead, she calmly answered, "You'll be fine."

"My mother always said karma comes back to bite you in the ass," Havoc pointed out with a grin. "Well, hand, in your case, chief, but still…" He started to laugh again and Mustang glowered at him. _Really,_ Hawkeye inwardly asked herself. _Must they always act like children?_

"… Poor Hayate, he looks really down," commented Fuery, watching the black and white dog lying quietly at the corner. Hawkeye recognised his behaviour as one of guilt—something he often showed after a chewing session with one of her bedroom slippers, or after a strict reprimand from her.

"Poor? _I'm_ the one who got bitten!" Mustang snapped. His wound was already bandaged and he flexed his hand gingerly. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he gratefully said with a small smile. "I—" He paused suddenly, blinked and stared at her with a raised eyebrow. She stared back expectantly. What now? "Wait a minute…" The Colonel raised a finger and pointed at Hayate. "Why didn't you scold him for what he did? I've seen the way you discipline him… Shouldn't your gun be out by now?"

Hawkeye shook her head as she clicked the first aid box shut. "Why would I punish him? He was just doing as he's been trained," she bluntly answered.

Mustang's eyebrow rose even higher. "… You trained him to not take food from me?" It was not hurt in his tone but utter disbelief, bewilderment and dismay, like a child deprived of his candy at the last moment.

"Not you, sir," she sighed. "Anyone but me. I wouldn't want a stranger poisoning Hayate now, would I?"

There was a pause as her words sank in. His three other subordinates—even _Fuery_— were wearing wide, goofy grins as Mustang stared at her cool face and wondered if the popping vein on his forehead was visible. That wretched dog gazed at him silently, a pink tongue hanging out. _Bwa haha,_ Mustang could almost imagine him cackling in glee.

"Hawkeye…" His tight growl had no effect on her at all. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?!"

o-o-o-o-o

It wasn't my fault! It wasn't as if I _wanted_ to bite him, but he was hurting me.

I liked all of mummy's friends, even the tubby one who always ran away whenever I came near. Four-Eyes was the best—he tickled my belly everytime I rolled over. The ones mummy called Havoc and Falman had never so much as given me a pet but I didn't mind. They weren't mean to me or anything.

I liked the black-headed person she called Sir too. He was nice and sometimes offered me things to eat. Some smelt really yummy, others were… interesting, to say the least. I sat myself down immediately in front of him and waited patiently…

"Here you go, dog." Sir held out the mouth-watering bone to my nose. It smelt very good but I was patient, so patient…

"… What's wrong? Don't want it?" Of course I wanted it! But he was supposed to shake both my paws first and tell me to go 'down' before I was allowed to eat. Mummy always did that. This one time, I started eating before she said anything and… well, mummy got mad. Luckily, I was a quick learner.

"Hmm… maybe it's gone bad…" Sir said under his breath as he stood up and walked away. Why didn't he ask for my paw? Had I been naughty?

He gave me something different the next day and again, I waited for him to shake my paws, but he never said anything about them and just showed me a reddish-brown thing that smelt really, really delicious.

"… Don't like this one either, huh?" Sir muttered but I quickly licked my lips, waiting to hear the magic word—'Shake!'

But no, he just watched me without a word, wearing the same expression mummy usually had whenever she was teaching me something new. I stared at the treat in his hands and licked my lips again. Please, _please…_

He got up and left. I whined quietly. Did I… do something wrong?

The next time he offered me another yummy thing and—_again_—didn't ask for my paw, I considered snatching the food from him and running away. It smelt too good. But no, no... I had seen Sir get angry before, and I didn't want mummy to be mad again. I had to be strong. Maybe they were working together to test me?

Sir continued giving me treats and I could somehow sense that mummy didn't like that, because she always called me to her whenever he chucked the food in my face. Was she jealous? She didn't need to worry. Mummy could be scary but she's my most precious person in the whole wide world! Wuff!

And then one day…

"What's wrong with this dog? He clearly wants this and yet he doesn't want to take it!" Sir said as he suspended a meaty strip before me. I couldn't help licking my lips.

"Rejected by an animal, huh?" Havoc said, that strange stick in his mouth again. I didn't know what it was but he seemed to like chewing it a lot. I didn't like its smell.

"… What's wrong with this dog?" Sir repeated, pushing the meat into my nose. Oh, the smell…! But I had to be strong! I looked away and panted, my right front leg itching to be lifted. Ask for my paw… ask for my paw!

"Argh, eat it, damn you." Sir's tone was one of annoyance and I suddenly felt his fingers latching onto my snout, the yummy meat shoved against my lips. No, no! I wasn't going to be forced into this! Mummy was testing me! I tried to turn away again but Sir was holding on to my mouth tightly. I gave a tiny whine.

"Uh, sir..." I heard Four-Eyes call out hesitantly but Sir didn't respond. He didn't let go of my face. I whined again and tried to pull back from him but he just grabbed my neck and—

_Ouch!_ With strength I didn't know I had, I wrenched myself from his grip and instinctively sank my teeth into the part of him that was closest to me—his hand. The moment I heard his yelp of pain, I regretted my actions immediately, but it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault! He was hurting me!

I scrambled away from Sir as quickly as I could, forgetting all about his treat, and stood by mummy's desk. There was laughter and grunts of discomfort, but I didn't care. I just wanted mummy. Why wasn't she back yet?

But oh joy, the door opened and she appeared and I ran to her at once, whining sadly. She looked at me and then at everyone else. Mummy would make things right. Wait… she wouldn't punish me for what I did, right? I was sorry I bit Sir but he was being too persistent. I hoped Four-Eyes or one of the others would tell her what he did to me…

I didn't really understand what happened the rest of the day but yay, mummy wasn't mad at me at all. I think I passed the test, because she gave me my favourite for dinner that night. I sat, shook paws, laid down and ate happily as she scratched the back of my ears.

Mmm… yum! Mummy's the best!

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**A/N: Black Hayate was so fun to write! I made him sound like a kid since he was probably still a pup in episode 37. **


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